The sun was white upon the water. Their loaded canoe melded the bottom of the reflected canoe beneath them. The water held the sky in almost perfect duplication except for the ripple the paddle as it stroked the water. Seated in front of him, Wiinizik was very happy. Early that morning he had told her about their move to the village come spring, once again she had burst into tears, but they had been tears of great joy. How her eyes had shown. He had not told Misko-amik about his decision and had cautioned Wiinizik against it. Why worry the old man, before the time came? Also it would not be good to give Misko-amik too much information too soon, because he would begin to study on it and then set his mind to figure out a way around their wishes. He was stubborn proud and independent. He had spent his life preserving the history of the people and making drums to call and speak for the spirits. Ajijaak suspected he might even have some idea that change was indeed coming, but so far, he had not hinted at it. The old man was still feeling the good medicine of the sisters. It would last several days before it wore off, by then they would safely be in their winter home and the fire would keep out the cold and damp.
Their winter canoe was wide and long. It contained all the blankets, food, skins, spices, sugar and clothes they would need for the entire winter.Winter was an unpredictable season, one that could last over long. They had a good supply of wild rice on board, in case Wiinizik’s milk should fail. The baby would have rich rice milk to drink so he or she would survive until he or she could begin to eat the strained food Wiinizik would fix.Wiinizik assumed he wanted a boy. Ajijaak was afraid of having a boy, afraid a boy would be shamed by a silent father. A girl would accept his handicap more readily. Girls usually did.Boys boasted about their fathers. He had been unable to boast about his own. Would his son be able to boast about him? All he could do was pray so. Pray that his son admired his dancing and his teaching, pray that he learned to hunt and fish well and pray beyond all that that the curse of Ajijaak’s family did not touch this child. Since he had left his village it seemed the curse had left him. Through the love of Wiinizik and the trust of Misko-amik, the burden of the past had been removed.
In the front of the canoe the old man stirred. His head turned from side to side as he looked at his surroundings. He took in a deep breath of air, and said, “The winter will be kind.” He was silent several moments and he spoke again, “The girl that my granddaughter gave the drum to came from your village.”
Ajijaak held his paddle in mid stroke. What? The one who had the drum that was supposed to be for his baby? He wanted to ask more, but signing and paddling did not work together.
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Wiinizik asked, “How do you know?”
Misko-amik said, “I listened to the sisters when they thought I was sleeping. It is amazing how much an old man can hear when he pretends sleep.”
Ajijaak’s mind began to race. So, Misko-amik knew of their plan to move to the village, and thus far, was not going to resist, but he had an entire winter to try to circumvent his wishes. As for the girl from his village, he knew, deep down, who she was. It had to be Ziibi. Her time to become Midewiwin was upon her. He knew how much she loved her home and he could only guess that she must be very miserable now. He hoped his drum might bring her some comfort. Now he was glad that Wiinizik had given the drum away. He also felt stupid he had not suspected it was Ziibi. He wanted to ask what Ziibi looked like now that she was a woman. It was hard for him to imagine her as such. In his mind she would always be a child. He knew better than to ever question Wiinizik about the girl. His woman was of a jealous turn, and too much curiosity would not bode well for him. So he kept his mouth shut and paddled. He could tell Wiinizik was growing weary of sitting and of course she probably needed to pee. It seemed holding a baby inside made a woman pee often and a lot. The growing of life was a continuing mystery to Ajijaak.
*
Two days later, they arrived at their winter hunting home. Though weary from the journey, Wiinizik carefully surveyed the house while Ajijaak unloaded the canoe. The poles of the house had endured the seasons, but there were some places where the birch had torn, or come loose. Ajijaak helped her unroll the birch bark they had brought for repairs.By mid-evening, just as the sun was going down, they had their house repaired and their camp set up. Ajijaak settled Wiinizik on the soft beaver fur blanket and wrapped Misko-amik in his bear rug.
Outside the wind was beginning to sing the song of a storm brewing. Soon the empty beech branches that surrounded their camp began to moan and creak. Wiinizik did not like storms. She buried her face in her arms and was soon asleep.
Misko-amik began to snore as well. To Ajijaak the sound of his woman’s slow breath in sleep, accompanied by the gentle snore of Misko-amik was music. Peace came upon him. How he enjoyed this time alone with his thoughts, it was good to be able to think without trying to communicate his thoughts to another. When the baby came, the baby too would make sounds and not have a language. The baby would learn though. This thought brought him joy mingled with sadness. There was so much he wanted to tell his child. In time he would be able to, because he would teach all of his children the language of symbols, it was more efficient than the language of signing. He smiled to himself as he imagined his own brood of dark headed children watching him skillfully write out symbols with his bone pencil. In his mind he saw himself teaching them how to hold the pencil and how to move it into the shape of symbols. It had taken a long time for Wiinizik to get a baby inside, he hoped it would not take so long next time. As an only child he had always longed for siblings.